Second grade begins
A young school is a pioneering school needing guidance,
direction and encouragement. This can be in the form of a mentor or sister
school, and if not that then an administrator or principal is necessary.
Trembling Trees needed a necessary. And the faculty, one day realized it and in
an even bolder move, did something about it
We all looked to Mr. Worm since he was handsome and
charismatic and most importantly well-liked but he wilted under the weight of
responsibility. Appropriately he suffered from chronic back problems. Perhaps
that is unfair to say that his back problems related to the lack of backbone at
the school but the thought crisscrossed my mind several times.
Everyone else was controversial in some way, even Mrs.
Squirrel who seemed kind and non-judgmental had a hard time saying what she
thought. She constantly held back until things got so bad she started speaking
her mind. But that would come later.
Mrs. Bluejay was heavily leaned upon because she had the most
experience but it is one thing to be part of an establish school and another to
lead a new one. She had two voices: one was soft and round like her body and
the other was loud like her opinions. Mrs. Bear couldn’t stand her. Mrs.
Bluejay felt the same way about her. Did I mention meetings were stressful?
When I was in the grades meetings I often felt like I was the
mediator between Mrs. Bear and Mrs. Rabbit. I could relate to Mrs. Bear’s fiery
temperament as well as Mrs. Rabbit’s melancholic one. Mr. Turtle was almost
never around for our meetings. And he had left.
Now with the new school year starting, everyone was moving up
a grade, as this is the Waldorf way, to stay with the same class from first to
eight grade, Mrs. Bear’s class would be fourth graders, Mrs. Rabbit’s third
grade, and mine second grade, this meant we had to find a new teacher to take
on the upcoming first grade class.
***
Mr. Wolf was quickly hired. He was tall, had an ample belly
and a booming voice. He was instantly liked and since he had some experience to
lean on, his star rose quickly like Mrs. Bluejay’s. I didn’t like him.
The school faculty also hired an administrator to lead
Trembling Trees, as the new school year begun. I liked the woman who applied.
She was an established and practicing mediator, and seemed the obvious choice
to me.
But in the end the faculty voted for Mr. Skunk, a short and
stocky man who had a lazy eye and chronic halitosis. My children were terrified
of him. I was especially frightened when he turned the janitor’s closet next to
our classroom into his office. Not down the hall, around the corner or on the
other side, right next to mine. When I opened my door he was immediately
to my left. The troll was making his home under a bridge and that bridge
happened to be my classroom.
***
As the new school year was getting underway, Mr. Worm asked
if I could meet him and Mrs. Rabbit for some coffee to go over some business.
Mr. Worm arrived soon after I had secured a table outside.
“Hey Miss Cox! How you doing?”
“Good, how are you?”
“Great,” he smiled.
“So, what’s this all about? Shall we wait for Mrs. Rabbit?”
We delayed a little bit by getting some drinks but Mr. Worm
decided to start, “We just wanted to talk about your needs and what we could do
to help you out for the new year. I know last year was rough and we want to
make sure things run smoothly. For instance, the big question is, do you have a
mentor?”
“Yes,” I beamed, “Amy recommended her. She talked to her on
my behalf explaining my situation. Her name is Joanna. She’s great. She’s done
the grades cycle a few times – a lot of experience and just a sweet old lady.”
“Wonderful!” He pulled out a small notepad and pen and jotted
a few things down.
“Ah! There she is,” I waved to Mrs. Rabbit.
As Mr. Worm turned around to say hello, I noticed something
written at the top of his notepad: Fire Lani??? The word fire
was underlined a couple of times and written down in a way as if he was jotting
down notes during a phone call or had been at a meeting.
***
My second grade class had been whittled down from last year's
more popular numbers but this is the class I picture when I think about
Waldorf. In fact, I have to remind myself that the first year even occurred. I
am sure this was because I was unbelievably stressed and any connection I once
had with my former first grade students was severed as they all went to the
more established Waldorf school.
#14’s mom still frequented the Trembling Trees though because
her son attended kindergarten so her letter stating she wanted to move the kids
to a closer school was a lie. But I knew this. We all knew this.
Anyway one day her daughter was with her. I said hello with a
big smile to the little girl who I used to slide down the slide with. She was
shy but had opened up to me throughout the year. But this time, she withdrew
without saying a word and hid behind her mother. My mouth hung open. #14 never
spoke to me again. I wondered what her mother had said about me to change her
heart. It didn’t matter though. It made forgetting my first year easier since
the confusion caused so much hurt.
So with the second year life slowed down just a little bit,
like driving at a normal speed after much speed racing. At least I could enjoy
some of the passing scenery. I started to figure out my style, if there is such
a thing, because the major distractions were no longer there.
I had thirteen disciples who loved me and hated me and there
were times I felt the same. Acorn #1 was my enigma, #2 the brain, #3 my shadow,
#4 miss perfect, #5 the rock star, #6 the Zen master, #7 the artist, #8 the
athlete, #9 mr. goofy, #10 the leader, #11 the comedian, #12 the all-around,
and #13 the geek.
When you have a smaller class the personalities of the
children are magnified. We were like a nuclear family. In a larger class big personalities
diminish. But when you work with the children in a more intimate setting you
get to know your children better. It’s the classic debate of large versus small
classroom sizes.
Yet the more time marches on, the more I can see the forest
and not just the trees. I never should have had a large class to begin with –
so many of those children should have been prevented from entering first grade
but the school wanted to grow and fast. They were proud of it and I can’t say
that I blame them. It’s just I took the fall or the blame for their decisions
and desires.
Mr. Wolf’s class was large, another testament to Trembling
Trees healthy kindergartens but Mrs. Bluejay recognized that her cohorts were
not doing anything to get the kindergartners ready for first grade. So she
started working with Mrs. Peacock and Mr. Worm on exercises and games and
assessment tests. Mr. Wolf was given a full time assistant to help shape the
class from the beginning. I’ll call her Mrs. Raccoon. More on her later.
I was a little infuriated that no one seemed to recognize
that the reason why Mr. Wolf was successful with his class was because he was
treated differently. #1’s mother practically clasped her hands together in
delight when she saw Mr. Wolf and I knew she was wishing her daughter was in
his class instead of mine. She was one of the parents who were indecisive about
keeping her daughter in my class but at the last minute she decided to “give me
a chance to gain my sea-legs” as her husband so eloquently put it.
I was also angry that no one seemed to understand that many
of the children I inherited were not prepared for first grade and yet I was to
blame. Mr. Wolf’s son who was strangely a-sexual looking was in Mrs. Rabbit’s
class so Mr. Wolf had the credibility of being a parent. He was a white male
and he was married to another Waldorf teacher. Oh and he had experience. I
suppose Mrs. Rabbit, Mrs. Bear and I were all a little frustrated by his King
Midas touch, with good reason too since he was ultimately the only one who
wasn’t fired.
A division was established then during my second year with
Mr. Skunk as king of the forest. It seems natural that he should be king of the
forest, as administrator but he played favorites. For example, much to the
protest of the other faculty members, the loudest being from Mrs. Bear, a “Core
Group” was formed consisting of Mrs. Bluejay, Mr. Worm (later replaced by Mrs.
Squirrel when Mr. Worm stepped down due to health problems), and Mr. Wolf.
Yes, that is the name they called themselves. The Core Group.
This too was hotly contested. I’m surprised they didn’t buy matching boiled
wool jackets and silk scarves. Maybe they did. Who knows. They held private
meetings and reported to the faculty. We had no idea what they were doing but
we were to trust them in a school that had very little trust.
The democracy that was Steiner’s vision was lost on the
belief that this school needed to get its act together and there were “certain”
people holding us back. This elitist group became the court of law in the land,
thus most of us who went to plead our cases left defeated or angry or both.
When I went to them asking if we could come together and discuss what happened
in the first and fourth grade class last year as a case study, Mr. Skunk told
me that, “From what I heard you should have been fired last year. I would have fired
you.”
The Core Group became official when its members announced in
the school’s newsletter that any parent who wished to be heard could hold a
private audience with them. Mr. Skunk opened the door of his janitor’s closet
to complaining parents and when the rest of us complained that the parents
should first come to their child’s teacher Mrs. Bluejay’s response was, “Not
every parent feels comfortable with their teacher.”
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